


(i already have) somebody to love

by FangirlWarCry



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Cute, Fluff, Games, Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Professors, them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 09:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20207392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangirlWarCry/pseuds/FangirlWarCry
Summary: It had all started out as an accident, honestly. Aziraphale never intended for there to be such confusion. And really, he couldn’t be blamed for his students jumping to conclusions, so it wasn’t exactly his fault. Now, he couldn’t quite speak for Crowley, but he had never set out to do anything particularly crafty.If it had become a sort of game over the years, it was completely unintentional.And if the university staff had started taking bets, it really couldn’t be helped.***In which Crowley and Aziraphale are professors who never quite admit to messing with their students.(but never quite deny it, either)





	(i already have) somebody to love

There were very few rules[1] when it came to Lower Tadfield’s most prestigious--well, only--private university. They went as follows (in no particular order of importance):

  1. Do not take Professor Crowley’s Botany course if you have any preconceived notions about plants, or more specifically, how to encourage[2] them to thrive.  

  2. Do not take Professor Fell’s English course if you are anything less than obsessed with literature, or more specifically, would not listen to a seemingly pointless tirade that somehow covers every point necessary.  

  3. Do not say, allude to, or even think of the occult in the presence of Professor Shadwell.  


It was the Unofficially Official Guide to Success that was seemingly flawless in creation. And this would have been fine and dandy, had the Them not had a definite divide within its members. Not in the sense of argument, but rather in the sense that while Pepper and Brian had a clear (if not slightly fuzzy on Brian’s part) appreciation for the humanities, Wensleydale and Adam were much more attuned to the sciences.

And though they all boasted a wealth of independence, none of the Them had ever really functioned without the other three. But there was absolutely no way any of them would admit to this, so they resolutely split their schedules with sighs that each of them hoped the others didn’t view as _too_ forlorn.

However, after a few days in their respective classes, they proceeded to become so enraptured in their subjects that this relatively small inconvenience could be overlooked.

* * *

[1] Well, there were quite a number of rules in the student handbook, but those were official rules that no one necessarily followed. The ones that mattered were the rather unofficial rules that had been created by the students themselves.

[2] “Encourage” is a very loose term in this application, a sentiment that would be seconded by the very plants themselves should they ever gain the courage to do much more than the occasional quiver.

* * *

“How _dare _you!” Adam started as the yell boomed from the greenhouse. He pitied whatever student was at the receiving end of Professor Crowley’s rage. Adam definitely did _not_ consider coming back at a more convenient time out of fear[3]. After all, he simply wanted to ask which fairly exotic plants would survive in an apartment setting.

Still, he took his time walking around, if only to admire the plants he might hope to one day acquire. The yelling continued.

“Don’t give me that _look_. You know exactly what you did! Did you _honestly _think you could act like that in front of the class and get away with it? You are _pathetic_.”

Adam had to wince at that one, because no matter what had happened, it was a bit _harsh_ to call a student pathetic. Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness was one thing, but _pathetic_?

“Being new is absolutely no excuse” The professor continued, completely oblivious to the cautiously nearing student. “Maybe I’ll make an example out of you. Take you out back. Show you and your little friends _exactly_ what happens when you _directly_ disobey me.”

Adam’s eyes widened, and even he, with his pension for mischief, knew that threatening bodily harm was far out of line. So rose up to his full height, puffed out his chest, and marched forward to defend the poor, terrorized...

“I _said_ no drooping leaves. That goes for _every one of you_!” Despite all Adam’s bravado, Professor Crowley had not noticed his entrance in the slightest, much too involved in yelling at the plant in the pot on the floor. If Adam didn’t know any better, he would say the plant was shaking out of fear. And if it had been, Adam couldn’t blame it[4]. Professor Crowley was scary while _teaching_; being the subject of his pure rage would have been nothing short of terrifying. 

Even if the subject _was_ a plant.

That was when the professor snatched the pot off the ground, vengeance clear in his posture as he marched for the door, only to come face to face with an extremely baffled Adam Young. Crowley stopped dead in his tracks and blinked. At least, Adam assumed he blinked behind the sunglasses he had not yet taken off in Adam’s presence.

“Is there something you need?” Professor Crowley asked the question as though he had not just been caught in the act of screaming at a plant that was perfectly fine in Adam’s opinion.

“I was just wondering what flower I’d be able to put in my room without it dying.” Adam attempted to match his professor’s level of casual, but even he could not fully keep his composure after what he’d just witnessed. Professor Crowley had a method of rolling his eyes that let people know he was rolling his eyes without actually _seeing _his eyes. Adam was one hundred percent sure he had just done so.

“Follow.” The professor commanded simply before resuming his determined march to the door. Adam did as he was told for once, and they walked in silence until they reached the outdoors. Professor Crowley then proceeded to stretch his arms away from his body, but just before he could release the pot, Adam stopped him.  


“Would that one?” He asked. “Survive, I mean. It’s not that bad. The leaves aren’t even really droopy.” Crowley’s lips thinned, but his grip tightened slightly on the plant. The plant’s trembling subsided minutely as it realized it just might live through this infraction. The professor regarded his student for what had to be a full minute before shoving the pot somewhat violently into Adam’s chest.

“Don’t bring it back here. I already have to make up for Zira’s coddling. I’ll never regain their respect if they think I’ve gone _soft_.” He grumbled, the second part more to himself than his student. Adam accepted the flower hesitantly, and then his brain caught up with what had been said. In the days since term started, Professor Crowley had revealed nothing of his personal life. But he had done so in such a tactful way that no one had noticed. At least, not until this very moment with Adam Young.

“Who’s Zira?” Adam figured--correctly--that thanking his professor for the plant would not have been appreciated, given the current situation, so he defaulted to his usual unrelenting curiosity that, when woken, did not appreciate being told to go back to bed. Even when it was tired and inspired rather idiotic actions in its exhaustion.

“An angel.” The professor answered noncommittally, but he was gone before Adam could question what, exactly, that meant.

* * *

[3] At least, that’s what he resolved to tell anyone who asked. In reality, he had marched straight back for the door before reminding himself that he was very much _not_ a pansy, and had nothing to fear, as he had done nothing wrong--yet.

[4] The plant was, in fact, shaking and would have appreciated Adam’s sympathy had he voiced it.

* * *

“Do your professors ever talk about themselves?” Adam asked as the Them lay sprawled across various pieces of furniture in their sitting room.

“Oh God yes.” Pepper responded immediately, lifting her head from the book she was reading. She tried to sound exasperated, she really did. And in most cases, she would be. Listening to people wax poetic about their other half on the daily was something she abhorred, but for some reason, it was different in this case.

Most people did so to brag, or to make up for whatever was lacking in their relationship, but there was something so... sincere about Professor Fell’s soft smile when his husband was the topic of conversation[5].

That, and the fact that many a time, it was the students drawing the stories out of him.

Pepper realized shortly later Adam was raising his eyebrow in a way that said he wanted to know, but there was a reason he wanted to know that went beyond the seemingly surface level question.

“Professor Fell is always talking about his husband-”

“Husband?” Wensleydale cut Pepper off.

“Yes, husband. Is there a problem?” Her tone conveyed both that she did not appreciate being interrupted in the slightest and that there was only one correct answer. But she couldn’t be blamed. Professor Fell was just so kind and warm and _angelic_ that it would almost be a crime to _not_ be protective of him.

Wensleydale wisely shook his head.

“As I was saying, he’s always talking about his husband _Anthony_ and their daughter.”

Adam hummed in contemplative interest, and Pepper could see his brain churning away. He seemed more interested than he normally would about the trivial information, but the Them knew it was only a matter of time before he voiced his thoughts.

“Professor Crowley hasn’t said anything about his life. Not even sure he has one.” Adam said by way of explanation, “At least, not until today.”

“‘s not true.” Wensleydale denied. Adam gave him a challenging look, not having to speak to get his message across. “He told us about...” The boy trailed off as the fog cleared and he too realized that their professor had revealed next to nothing[6] about himself.

“Well I think that’s weird.” Adam declared after a decent amount of silence. “And I want to find out stuff.”

Pepper, far too used to her friend’s affinity for stalking, sighed.

“Maybe we should wait a few weeks.” It sounded like a suggestion, but everyone in the room knew it was not meant as a suggestion. And even though Adam was the unchallenged leader of the group, he didn’t dare counter her. When Pepper wanted them to do something, she told them to do it. When they were to do something without any chance of rebuttal, Pepper suggested it.

On an average day, Pepper would jump into the adventure without hesitation. But she had a paper on Oscar Wilde due the next week, and Adam’s plans had a tendency to be all consuming, no matter how long they took to execute. 

And Professor Fell was the kind of teacher that could make you feel worse when he was disappointed in you than when another teacher screamed at you[7].

Pepper was not in the mood to feel guilty.

* * *

[5] It was the same smile he wore when he brushed his fingers across the spine of an extremely rare and hard to find first edition, though Pepper had never seen the two expressions to match them. Had she ever, she would agree that it was honestly quite fitting.

[6] Next to nothing being approximately a millimeter away from nothing itself, the distance factoring in Crowley’s offhanded comment about how he doesn’t feed his roses coffee grounds (they bloom just find on their own, thank you very much).

[7] It’s worth mentioning that no one had ever been screamed at the way Crowley screamed at a plant that had the audacity to wilt.


End file.
